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m MEMORY OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



A DISCOURSE 



DELIVERED IN THE 



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IN DETROIT, MICH. 



SUNDAY, APRIL 17th, 1865, 

A. G. IIIBBARD, PASTOR OF THE CHURCH. 




PUBLISHED BY REQUEST. 



DETROIT: 

0. S. GULLET'S STEAM BOOK AND JOB PRINTING OFFICE. 

1865. 



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Detroit, April 17th, 1865. 
Rev. A. G. Hibbard, 

Dear Sir: — Having listened to your discourse 
yesterday morning, in memory of our late lamented President, and 
desirous of preserving the words you uttered for ourselves, and of 
circulating them among our friends, we would respectfully invite 
you to furnish us with a copy of the discourse for publication. 
Very respectfully, your friends, 

Charles Merrill, R. N. Rice, 
J. Wiley, E. G. Allen, 

0. Mact, A. W. Rice, 

S. R. Wooley, A. D. Dickinson. 



Detroit, April 20th, 1865. 
To Messrs. Charles Merrill, R. N. Rice, J. Wiley, and 
others : 

Your note of the 17th, inviting me to furnish 
for publication a copy of the discourse delivered Sunday morning, 
in memory of President Lincoln, is before me, and while I regret 
that the discourse is so imperfect, I cheerfully comply with your 
kind recpiest, and place the MS. at your disposal. 

Yours respectfully, 

A. G. Hibbard. 



v 



" The Beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places : how are the 
mighty fallen!" — II. Samuel, 1:19. 



These are the words with which David commences his 
"lamentation over Saul, and over Jonathan, his son." The 
mournful event of yesterday explains the choice of my theme 
this morning. "We have assembled to express our grief, and the 
sad and solemn drapery of mourning surrounds us. On an 
occasion like the present, I enter upon the performance of my 
duty with fear and trembling. With a few brief hours for 
preparation, with body and mind exhausted by a week of excite- 
ment and more than a thousand miles of travel, 1 might well 
distrust my ability to merit your approbation or justly to portray 
the character of that great and excellent man who deserves our 
eulogy as he receives our regret. But I frankly confess that I 
have no uneasiness on these accounts. I am to speak to friends 
and brothers always ready to receive kindly any words that I 
may utter and to suggest any excuse that the speaker may need. 
But I tremble when I think, that in this Christian land, in this 
nineteenth cent ury, we are brought face to face with a crime, 
the very thought of which almost causes one's blood to curdle with 
horror, a crime committed under the most aggravating circum- 
stances, — and, worst of all, a crime which will be rejoiced in by 
men and women who have called themselves, and are called by 
others, refined and Christian. 

We had expected this morning around the communion table 
to celebrate the Lord's Supper, to think of the life, death and 
resurrection of our Lord and Redeemer. With joyous anthem 



in memory of him who brought life and immortality to light, 
we had hoped to lift our hearts to the Father. But it is made 
to us a crucifixion-day, and we come with sad hearts to do rever- 
ence to him who was one of the world's Christs or Saviours, and 
whose spirit, we believe, looks down upon us from heaven. 

It is befitting that in this solemn hour, when a nation's head 
is bowed with anguish and the sighs of afflicted millions are 
rolling up to heaven, that we should gird ourselves in the sable 
array of mourning, and pause for a moment and stand by the 
cold remains of him who was the greatest, best and wisest of 
our American statesmen, to consider his virtues, and mingle, 
over the dust of departed greatness, ours, with the tears of a na- 
tion. 

There is something supremely solemn in the death of a great 
man, and when a national bereavement throws its dark shadows 
of disappointment upon the soul, and the chilling certainty that 
another harp whose tones have entranced thousands has been 
unstrung and hung upon the willows of death's cold river, a 
charm comes over us so holy and sacred that, spell-bound, we 
fain would sit in solemn silence, and call up before our spirit's 
eye visions of the mighty dead. But it is fitting that we should 
give vent to our feeling, and proclaim to the world our attach- 
ment to him who has fallen. It is fitting that we should chant 
a funeral requiem which shall be felt and remembered till after 
the funeral of this earth. We do not expect to add any new 
charm to the solemnity of the all-absorbing theme, but -simply 
to offer our tribute of praise to his memory. 

But can we realize that the man who has been almost the 
living embodiment of our government and nation for four years, 
is no more? Can we realize that the voice which has made the 
whole world echo and re-echo the tones of liberty is now hushed 



forever, and upon that brow, where mercy seemed enthroned, 
the cold and icy death dew-drop now stands, the signet seal of 
death's victory ? Can we realize that the man who has dared to 
make America free, b}' breaking the chains of millions of our 
fellow men, has passed beyond human censure and human 
praise ? Can we realize that Abraham Lincoln, the illustrious 
statesman, the unflinching patriot, the immaculately honest pol- 
itician — yes, our own venerated and beloved Lincoln — is dead ? 
Alas ! it is even so. The man who has stood with us as a me- 
mento of the stormy past, a monument of those mighty minds 
who lived when patriotism meant everything, and who, amid 
storms that would have discouraged even Romans, launched our 
Ship of State and safely guided her through the foam-crested 
breakers into the ocean waters, has slept the sleep which knows 
no waking on earth. And in this is the peculiar sadness of the 
event : that it was not by the hand of natural disease, and while 
surrounded by loving friends, with zephyrs mingling with the 
soft melody of the groves, like the music of an unstrung Eolian 
harp, that he heard the shaft of death's dark angel, which watch- 
ful affection sought to turn aside, but like the sudden crash of 
the wrathful tornado, that breaks or uproots before one can bend, 
directed by vengeful hate, swiftly and surely sped the messenger 
of death from the weapon of the assassin whose heart was fired 
with the malice of a fiend. 

"Aye, heaven and earth do cry, impossible, 
The shuddering angels round the eternal throne, 
Veiling themselves in glory, shriek, impossible, 
But hell doth know it true." 

Abraham Lincoln has walked almost alone, like a lone 
star companionless, looming up through the darkness and 
mists of life's stormy sea, a cynosure of hope, a beacon light to 
his generation, yet as the sun radiates light to other parts of the 



universe, and enlivens other intelligences, so his intellect and 
soul illuminated the path of many, who walked and lived only 
as it were in his influence ; and we hoped that for many years 
he might have been spared unto us, that we mio-ht have walked 
in the wisdom of his counsels and be guided in safety by his 
precepts. But this, like so many of the hopes of earth, has van- 
ished, and this bright star has been thrust from its orbit and has 
passed away to darkle in the rayless night of death. 

In contemplating the life of Lincoln, it becomes us to lay 
aside all partisan spirit, all prejudice and bitterness, and consider 
him as an American ruler and statesman, twice elevated to the 
highest office in the gift of the nation. 

I shall not speak of his faults, but bid you remember that 
man is not infallible, so he was not ; but we will not judge the 
dead. But I must say that what in passing hajs seemed to us 
his chiefest faults, the retrospect has changed to glorious virtues, 
and candor has compelled us to say, " he is wiser and purer than 
we all." 

I sincerely believe that America never saw his superior as a 
statesman and ruler, and although in the course of his public 
life he has frequently been placed in the most trying circum- 
stances, his wisdom and honesty have enabled him to rise supe- 
rior to every emergency, and come off conqueror from every 
field of conflict. He was admired, reverenced and beloved by 
foreign diplomatists as never was President before him. His 
straightforwardness charmed all of these men who had been 
trained in a life-long school of cunning and deception. Said 
William II. Channing, Chaplain of Congress, at the Unitarian 
Convention, in Xew York, last week, "Every man in Washing- 
ton has implicit confidence in the President." lie has frequent- 
ly been called "a diamond in the rough," but it seems to me 



that his great mind was hewn from a gigantic block of intellect 
and was polished and heautijied by the ennobling touch of honor 
and honesty, and so he was qualified to adapt himself to any 
circumstances in life and follow the interests of his country 
through all the intricacies and intrigues of diplomacy. 

President Lincoln assumed the reins of government at a 
period such as our country had never seen ; he found arrayed 
against himself a large party at the [North and a united South ; 
he was compelled to prosecute a war with neither money nor 
munitions at command ; he had to meet a foe who, with all the 
appliances of civilization, waged a warfare as heartless and un- 
relenting as ever characterized heathenism. lie has had to raise 
and equip armies, to educate generals, to sustain the nation's 
credit, to protect the national honor at home and abroad, to 
combat armed treason, and something meaner than that, a 
treason too cowardly to bear onus. Be has been obliged to wait 
and watch when his friends have almost distrusted him. And 
he has lived through these four years to see the rebellion well 
nigh crashed, its capital deserted and in ashes, its president an 
exile, its commanding general an eager pleader for peace, its 
principal army disbanded, and Charleston, where the rebellion 
commenced, made the headquarters of the missionaries of free- 
dom and peace. He has lived through these four years to see 
slavery, the cause of the war, forever abolished, to make his 
impress upon the Constitution of the United States, and to 
write his name by the side of "Washington's as the Saviour of Ms 
Country. His was not the ambition of Alexander or Xapoleon, 
who subserving every principle of justice and right, and even 
the happiness of mankind, to the accomplishment of their own 
ends, rode over ruin and prodigy, desolating nations and bathing 
their swords in the life-blood of thousands. His was not the 



8 

base avarice of Bacon, at once the wisest and meanest of man- 
kind, who would barter justice for gold ; but high, infinitely 
high he stood above that base and ignoble spirit of bribery and 
corruption which has blighted so many gifted men. He was a 
self-sacrificing man ; he devoted all his talents to the cause of 
his country, and with untiring zeal sought to promote her wel- 
fare and make her what she professes to be, the freest nation on 
the earth. Party was a secondary consideration with him. His 
motto was : "First my country, then myself." His life, so pure 
and glorious, recalls the lines of Shakspeare, who has said a fit. 
ting word for almost every time and place. 
This Lincoln 

" Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been 
So clear in his great office, that his virtues 
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongu'd, against 
The deep damnation of his taking off"' — 

But his character as a citizen was always commendable, and 
in the capacities of husband, parent and friend, he shone still 
more conspicuously, if possible, than in any of the relations 
before mentioned, and in all his social and civil life he mani- 
fested that affable regard for the happiness and interests of his 
fellow men which endeared him to them, and built a monument 
of regard in their hearts which shall last longer than the proud- 
est works of art. His name is embalmed in the souls of his 
countrymen, in the immortal part of each one of us, and so shall 
stand among the most lustrous on the pages of history. 

As a man, Abraham Lincoln seems to have been naturally 
great, for even in his humble boyhood he won the confidence 
and the hearts of all who knew him. As a, patriot, his sincerity 
has never been questioned, his sacrifices have been frequent, his 
firmness that of the rock which stands unmoved by the hurri- 
canes which lash to fury the ocean. As President, the correct- 



9 

ness of his principles, the integrity of his life, the purity of his 
soul, have all made their impression on the nation, and his sense 
of justice lias inscribed itself on the Constitution, which, per- 
fected during his administration, will perpetuate his memory 
while it lasts. The Proclamation of Emancipation will stand in 
history with Magna CJiarta and the Declaration of Independ- 
ence, and transmit his name to the latest generations. Always 
humane, he has had the strength to say to a conquered foe, Live. 
As & friend, he was chiefly beloved, winning men to him by his 
tender sympathies, by his joy-inspiring nature, and a heart free 
from hypocrisy, and transparent as the air we breathe. Elevated 
to the highesl position in the nation, and sought after on account 
of the favors al his disposal, he had kind words and beaming 
smiles for all, and had the gift of denying so as to give no pain. 
But he was no courtier, no stickler for forms, and never de- 
ceived, as a glance at the deep, earnest eye ever attested, and 
now that he is gone, old friends of opposing parties join hands 
and weep over his remains in token of their love and honor. 
As a Friend, a President, a Patriot, a Man, he lived nobly and 
purely, and fell at last, like Jesus, our Teacher and Saviour, the 
victim of cowardly and treacherous vengeance. 

Standing in this house of God to-day, I feel nothing like 
revenge towards the murderer of Lincoln. Whoever he may 
be, wherever he may wander or be confined, may God have 
mercy upon him and comfort his sad heart and save his guilty 
soul. No one man has murdered our President. The hand 
that directed the deadly missile was nerved by many a heart at 
the North and South. 

I charge the accursed institution of slavery, which incited 
this rebellion, which has demoralized politicians, which has 
debased the image of God, which always has encouraged lust 



10 

and murder, which has totally corrupted a party which in its 
inception was pure as light, which has filled the earth with 
groans and tears, with dishonesty and crime, and turned honest 
men to knaves, conspirators and assassins — I charge the system 
of American slavery with the murder of Abraham Lebtooln. In 
the name of God, I charge the men who planned this unholy 
rebellion with the murder of Abraham Lincoln. I charge the 
men at the North, who have used their tongues and pens in jus- 
tifying the South and upbraiding the government, with the mur- 
der of Abraham Lincoln. I accuse those men who have joined 
secret leagues against the government, who have called our 
President a tyrant, who have said that this war as prosecuted 
by the North was unjustifiable, with the murder of Lincoln. I 
accuse you, who have preferred peace to principle, who have 
joined hands with traitors, who have secretly rejoiced at the rise 
in gold and at Federal reverses, who have said the North could 
never succeed, with the murder of Abraham Lincoln. You 
have murdered him, because you have helped to make a senti- 
ment that would render such a consummation desirable. I 
charge you who have said within a week that you wished Lin- 
coln might be shot on account of his leniency to Lee's army, 
with the assassination of the President, for murder was in your 
heart when you uttered those words. 

Before you, my brothers, and before God, I say, that to-day 
in the sight of heaven, and before many months shall have 
passed, those whom I have named will stand before the world 
his murderers. I would rather be the dead President to-day, 
with his record all glowing with light, liberty, honor and love, 
than the best of all those who have despised and dishonored 
him. The day will come, and that soon, when some living men 
will wish that they had never lived, for God lives, and justice 



11 

will be clone. The days to come will unfold the present as God 
sees it to-day, and no name will stand higher, no character shine 
more lustrous, no record be purer, than that of him whose loss a 
nation mourns. 

O, my friends, let us thank God in this sad hour for so good 
and pure a man, so patriotic and upright a ruler, as Abraham 
Lincoln. He will live while time endures and while eternity 
rolls on. Although this glorious Union should be dissolved, and 
the stars which stud the political heavens should one by one be 
blotted out, and their blazing fires be shrouded in Cimmerean 
darkness, yet so long as the human heart shall beat to the soul- 
stirring songs of Freedom and Liberty, so long his name shall 
be remembered. A Nation, passed through death to life, shall 
be his fitting monument. His memory shall be precious, his 
eternity joyous. "When they lay the form, now so cold and 
silent, to rest, may the ocean anthems of the East and "West be 
his funeral requiem, may the cool winds of the North chant 
their wares over his sleeping dust, and the soft breathing of 
Southern zephyrs, as beneath the pale light of the moon they 
gently whisper through the boughs of the dark-leafed magnolias, 
be his sleeping orisons. And never could epitaph be more 
appropriate than the familiar line, "An honest man 's the noblest 
work of God." 

Blessings on that wife so suddenly widowed, and those 
orphan children, come from God. 

Blessings on our armies and navies, Avho have well nigh 
won the freedom and peace planned by our President, and 
which would have brought comfort and joy to his heart. 

Blessings on our new President, and may God give him wis- 
dom and strength, nerve his arm with justice, and fill his heart 
with mercy, and enable him to perfect the work so nobly begun, 
and of which we can now see the end. 



12 

Blessings on our stricken country. May peace soon dwell 
within her borders — a peace founded in righteousness. May 
partisan malice be hushed, and over the grave of our departed 
President may party bitterness be forgotten, while every truly 
loyal American devotes his energies and raises his prayers that 
our country, so long divided, may, united, become the freest 
country of the world. 

God lives, and His spirit seems to say, 

'Tis come, — Ms hour of martyrdom 
In Freedom's sacred cause, is come; 
And, though his life has passed away- 
Like lightning on a stormy day, 
Yet shall his death hour leave a track 
Of glory, permanent and bright, 
To which the brave of alter times, 
The suffering brave, shall long look back 
With proud regret, and by its light 
Watch through the hours of slavery's night, 
For vengeance on the oppressors' crimes. 



IB S 12 



